The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-06-04

been crushed or manned, should have
i5bought nothing of it, but an active, healthy
dexter hand 1t was mystery.
"Why trouble thy head?" observed
jacob. "Look upon it as business trans
action"
could not share his philosophical feel
ing, and during the rest of my sojourn in
Paris | kept constant lookout for my
nocturnal visitor, and never encountered
him; so mystery he remained.
CHAPTER II.
Two years afterwards found me in part
nership with well-known doctor at Hamp-
stead. l had passed my examination in
London at the College of Surgeons and
commenced to practice. should have
preferred Saville Row to Frognal; but had
| resided in that orthodox medical locality
the chances are that should not have had
chain of events to relate that forms a
strange narrative. 1t was my custom on
fine mornings to go for constitutional up
to Hampstead Heath, where the air comes
uninterruptedly over five counties. l had
walked to the group of Scotch frs, de-
scending from them to the turf skirting the
ride. The Heath, golden with blossoming
furze, seemed a solitude. | had at that
early hour met no one, and imagined | had
it all to myself, until my eyes CHANGED to
fall on figure seated on a rustic bench in
front of the miniature lake. 1t was that
of female; her attitude so suggestive of
afliction that softly advanced behind her
to within short distance in order to OBJ
serve her. She sat with dropping head
and hands clasped before her; she wore a
gray dress, with close-ftting brown straw
bonnet and veil. Suddenly she arose,
wildly threw up her arms, as if appealing
to heaven, then rushed down toward the
water. By instinct rather than thought |
OWNED her intention; with a bound |
caught her with strong grasp just as she
reached the waters edge She struggled
violently to free herself, but / pinned her
arms with both my hands.
"How dare you?" she said, turning TO
me white, wan face. "Let me go-let
me 90, say-this instant r
'sNot until you are more rational. Young
woman, do you know the crime you medi-
tsted ?"
"Suppose I do" said she, defantly,
"what then ?"
"Only that / shall hold you until you
think better of your intention. Therc-it
is useless to struggle" (for she endeavored
to twist herself from my grasp. 81 do
not intend 10 release you until you are
calmer
Finding herself powerless, she began to
cry hysterically. This was good sign.
led her back to the bench, still keeping a
firm hold of her. She sobbed violently,
her tears dropping on my hands, and felt
she was trembling from head to foot.
Knowing that after this excitement she
would become exhausted, waited patiently,
and when she grew calmer relaxed my hold
of her. She buried her face in her hand
kerchief and wept more quietly.
Snow" said 1, ''tell me your troubles.
Few are so bad but they can be alleyiated,
if they cannot be cured.
She raised her head, turning her wild,
dark eyes on mine. "How dare you, a
stranger, speak to me at all /? 1t is lib
erty-a great liberty"
isIt would be so under ordinary circum-
stances, but | will not stand by to see a
life thrown away; and you are young
enough to have, in all probability, many
happy days in the future. Who knows
what Providence may have in store for
you"
"Providence has deserted me.
"No; Providence never forsakes those
who do their best and place their trust in
It. What Is your grief to prompt such
dreadful act as this ?"
"You have no right to ask"
"This is childish, . l said, vexed at the
wrong view she took of my inference. "If
YOUR friends are unkind-"
~ have no friends, she interrupted.
"Perhaps it is lovers quarrel ?"
'sSir, do you insult me p
as it poverty?" 1 asked, glancing at
her attire, which, though neat, gave no
tokens of it, but well know that pow
erty, that most terrible one of all, exists
hidden poverty-and frequently appear
anees are deceitful.
at is possible that you mean well, but
life is burden to me. am one of the
most forlorn creatures on the face of the
earth, or should not wish to quit lovely
scene like this" glancing up at the blue
sky. Then | saw she was beautiful
young, delicate, refined profile, relieved
cameo-like, by the brown bonnet.
~ L VU.ll
never again to attempt self-destruction-to
try and bear your sorrow p
II have tried-fought against it, but
hope is dead; l am powerless and friend
less"
epo not say that; am willing to be-
friend you. You distrust me because | am
young man and stranger. Here is my
card. l am doctor well known about
this neighborhood. Write, come, or send
to me, and 1 will try to assist you.
She hung her head; evidently my words
had impressed her, and placed my card
in her passive hand.
"Sir," said she, II thank you if you are
sincere"
"Will you give me your promise"
"Yes, 1 will preserve little longer my
miserable lost life / have no one to ad-
wise Or She stopped as the old
church clock chimed 8. ~ must fly, |
shall be missed" She started up, rear
ranging her veil with hurried, agitated
fingers. "Good morning, sir.
She sped away up the hill like gazelle,
/ following at moderate distance. A
white object futtered on the path. Itwas
her handkerchief. l picked it up and
noted it was of the finest cambric, with the
initials 'sT. D." exquisitely embroidered.
On the brow of the hill she turned and
looked back. I waved the handkerchief.
Mistaking my object, she made a dart for
ward and her slight, sylph-like form disap-
peared.